Experiment
by infinite vertigo
Summary: Experimented on by the government, Heiwajima Shizuo has become a ghost of his former self and Orihara Izaya finds himself being trusted to save him. The question is, is such a thing possible? It hadn't been a task to get him out of the government's clutches, but healing a broken man will take more than syringes, bandages, and pretty words. Shizaya
1. infiltration

**disclaimer: don't own.**

_inspiration from an anonymous from Tumblr. thank you for allowing me to write your idea!_

* * *

**chapter one: infiltration**

"Right. No, no… left. No…!"

"Have Celty text it to me."

Orihara Izaya's voice was sharp as he hissed into the black cell phone he had pressed to his face. The device had long ago warmed to his cheek and the informant dared to admit that perspiration had strands of black hair stuck to his face, his cool composure marred with anxiety. Even with the white lab coat and a stolen ID attached to the breast pocket with a clip, Izaya knew his disguise would be recognized sooner or later. In a government facility with high security as this one, identification cards were only to swipe his way into facilities. The man's fingerprint that Izaya had borrowed was carefully on a piece of tape that he adjusted so that a glance would see nothing wrong with his hand.

Sharp elbows made for effective weapons to knock one out and it wasn't particularly difficult for Izaya to drag the unconscious body into a bathroom stall and leave him there, switching their clothes. A gun rested in the waistband of his pants, the too snug fit comforting after the metal warmed to his skin. It was in an easily accessible place, should he need it—and Izaya hoped not, because he did quite love his humans, and it would make a bigger commotion than he cared for.

Sooner or later, though, someone wouldn't just glance at pale skin, black hair, and glasses and match the picture on the identification to Izaya's. There were differences, yet Izaya chose someone that looked somewhat similar to him. The coat was slightly too big on him, and hid the visible bulkiness below that would arouse suspicion, and Izaya was only too grateful to be able to keep his pants on—dark slacks were common—as the crisp white shirt felt baggy on his slender shoulders. Taking advantage of the bagginess, he had clothes wrapped around his slender abdomen, an extra pair of pants and a shirt, carefully folded and concealed to the best of his ability. Uncomfortable, surely, but a safe feeling of something around his body.

A thin finger came up to push the glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he gave a curt nod to a fellow "co-worker" pass by. He had infiltrated the security footage in this building for weeks prior to this and knew the typical behaviors well. Studies of maps late into the night—with coffee from Namie as company—had the building's structure engraved in Izaya's mind and he easily navigated his way to the innermost chamber reserved for one thing that would be illegal—if it wasn't the government itself:

Human testing.

The two words had Izaya's blood running cold and he scowled, mask that he donned to be looked at as a researcher slipping. It happened and he had always known it, yet it was kept so quiet that it was easy to forget. The very idea that his humans, his precious humans, were being tested on disgusted him—and Heiwajima Shizuo was no different. Shinra had been the one to tell him, bringing it up casually when Izaya was over—although the informant would detect the strain in the doctor's cheery voice.

_"Hey, Izaya… you know, right?"_

_ Crimson eyes peered over the rim of his coffee mug to look at Shinra. Celty was behind him, seeming to have come to join them from her place at the desk with her computer at the sudden shift in conversation. There was a strange sort of forced smile on Shinra's lips, and his hands were curled nervously on his knee, body language that made it easy to see something was wrong. Izaya had come over at Shinra's request, the doctor proclaiming they hadn't seen each other for a while. When the answer from Izaya was that it was because Shizuo hadn't tried to kill him, there was a pause in Shinra's laugh, before a confirmation of a date and time._

_ "Know what?" the raven drawled. His own curiosity was stifled beneath his look of nonchalance; the only questions he would be the one to ask anyone would be where Heiwajima Shizuo was these past few days. It was nearing two weeks now and he had disappeared. It seemed a letter of resignation had been left to Tom and a voicemail to Kasuka, yet that was it. Heiwajima Shizuo had vanished without a trace, although Izaya had his own suspicions. The way the letter was written seemed to be unlike how Shizuo would write, littered with complex sentences and a vocabulary so large that even Izaya almost had to tug out a dictionary from his bookshelf. Kasuka wouldn't let the raven near his phone, but admitted that, while it was his brother's voice, there was a certain stilt to it._

_ Izaya's head tipped back to drain the rest of the coffee before he set the mug down on the coffee table. Arms draped over the back of the couch and legs crossed, as if he were at home, and he looked to Shinra with a lopsided smirk. Shizuo could wait, he thought, he would find him eventually. Two weeks hardly seemed like a long time if one wasn't expecting death threats. Perhaps he was on vacation or resting, visiting parents? Tom and Kasuka showed signs of concern, but Izaya wasn't._

_ After all, he wouldn't mind if Heiwajima Shizuo was dead._

_ "Shizuo…"_

_ Red eyes showed a gleam of surprise when the name of the blond dripped from his lips, a silence following after. Izaya found himself having to force his body to not lean forward to be able to pick up on Shinra's soft words, interest having been caught. Yet, he allowed his face to contort into something resembling curiosity with an arched brow and waited until Shinra continued. The doctor's face was downcast, yet a frown was evident; even from Celty, Izaya sensed a sudden change, although he wouldn't be able to pinpoint it with the different pattern of the shadows from her neck._

_ "He… he's been taken by the government."_

_ For the first time in a very long time, Orihara Izaya's breath hitched just as Shinra's expelled in his explication._

_ "They called me… so I know. They're the ones that wrote the letter to Tom and I'm guessing they used some sort of a drug to have Shizuo leave that voicemail… using him to test drugs among other things, probably. His endurance is known throughout the country and I suppose they've decided that he would be a good test subject because of his stamina—and just because they're curious. I think they'd leave his physical being alone, as in not do anything invasive, but he would probably be subjected to non-invasive mental and physical tests. I can see why but…"_

_ "Get to the point, Shinra."_

_ Izaya's cold voice had Shinra jumping but he nodded, fixing his glasses. The doctor's eyes wouldn't raise to meet his and Izaya found no reason to be upset at that; surely, if Shinra looked now, he would be appalled at the sincere disgust laced in hues of a muddy rose. It seemed difficult for Shinra to recount what he had heard and Izaya wondered how long he knew, how long did it take him to work up the courage to talk to him about this?_

_ "They called me because I know him, because of my work. Said… said they needed someone like me to…"_

_ Shinra didn't finish his sentence and Izaya didn't need him to; various endings to the statement fluttered in his mind, but none of them could quell the nausea that threatened to rise in him. Giving a sigh, Izaya's head lolled forward, until black strands of hair covered his gaze, framed his face. It was silent and he could hear every badump, badump of his heart in anticipation as he tried to process the situation. _

_He hadn't been missing; Shizuo had been taken._

_Thoughts of not minding if Shizuo was dead escaped Izaya's mind; he didn't mind, but that was only if Shizuo's death came from Izaya's doing. Testing, Shizuo was being used by them and being exploited, against his will. Used. It was vile, the entire concept of human testing, and Izaya's body wanted to shiver with trembles of horror, yet he held his composure. Shinra's words echoed in his mind as he calmed himself; in a situation like this, logic was needed. After all, he was Orihara Izaya; if Heiwajima Shizuo was a beast, then Orihara Izaya was logic itself._

_Shinra and Celty were deadly still, as if movement detonated anger, and Izaya found he was holding his breath when he looked up, a smirk, a feigned one that was immaculate, on thin lips._

_ "Aah… Shinra, call them back, will you? We're going to need quite a bit of information…"_

Because he hated Heiwajima Shizuo but he was _his_.

No one else had to know about him, only Izaya. No one else could kill him, only Izaya. No one else had any business regarding Heiwajima Shizuo, except Orihara Izaya.

Pallid fingers gripped the card again and slid it through the reader. A taped index finger pressed to the glass and a green light illuminated, a heavy door sliding open. Izaya's breath hitched, knowing this was the last door and that from now on it was just a matter of finding the right room and convincing Shizuo to go with him. Everything in the facility was of the latest technology, something expected, and Izaya was surprised no robots roamed the hallways, something he always found dryly amusing in science-fiction movies.

He was alive, Shinra had assured him the moment they began planning, they had no intention of killing him, wanting to use his body for other means. Izaya could see a flicker in Shinra's eyes, a mix of disgust and interest, and immediately said he didn't want to know what the bodyguard was enduring. Most certainly, if Shinra was disgusted that meant something horrible was being done to someone he considered a friend, but his interest was what worried Izaya; if Shinra found it interesting…

_Don't think about that._

A stern command was issued to the man from himself. Black heels clicked against the clean floor, fluorescent lights illuminating the bare hallway. It smelled sterile and Izaya kept his eyes ahead, searching for the room number that Shinra had given him. He had pocketed his phone and was using a Bluetooth instead, something he found all right to do because of the large majority of other researchers who did the same. It was off, as he hung up on Shinra because hearing his friend's anxiety would do nothing for his own, and the Bluetooth fit into his ear, a comforting weight. It wasn't often that Izaya was nervous, but in a situation like this, sneaking into a top secret government facility with the intention of stealing someone, he thought it was perfectly fine for him to admit he was nervous.

A few more phone calls between Shinra and the facility, added onto Izaya's own information, was enough for him to formulate a plan. Hours were spent in front of the computer and all work was put on hold; Orihara Izaya had 'private matters' to attend to, he had Namie send to all of his clients, and any attempt to interrupt him would result in information "accidentally" being leaked out. He didn't want to be disturbed, needed no distractions; all his efforts and concentration were to be put on this one project—it seemed that was the pattern when it came to Shizuo. Kasuka wasn't told, neither was Tom, and Izaya figured he would come up with a story later.

Shinra was had the officials under the ruse that he was considering agreeing to help them, using that to milk out information to where Shizuo was, should he want to visit, and what sort of experiments were being performed—and he told only the bare minimum to Izaya, just enough to ensure that Shizuo would be able to walk. If it wasn't for his trust in Shinra, Izaya would've tapped his phone, but staying at the doctor's apartment all day and all night was enough. Namie seemed to have figured it out relatively easily—even if he tried, Izaya knew he wouldn't be able to stop the woman from figuring out something she was curious about. He felt she was trying to help, in her own subtle way, leaving him articles of antidotes for a variety of drugs that were currently being tested, going even so far as to murmur 'they do a lot more testing on drugs before they resort to human testing, no matter who it is.'

_"Ah, you're being nice to me."_

_ "Corpses can't sign paychecks."_

Izaya stilled in front of a door and closed his eyes, taking a breath and straightening his coat. A nameplate with 'CE826' was next to the door, and the vertical window had criss crosses on it. Yet, Izaya didn't look through it; he didn't want to see Shizuo before he had to. It was tinted, but one glance and Izaya knew he'd be able to see blurs and shadows, more than he was ready for at the moment. His face felt warm but there were cold prickles alighting his cheeks. He almost wished he had the Bluetooth on, even static would help with the suffocating silence.

The last conversation he held with Namie before departing with Shinra and Celty had been one he knew the woman was wondering about for as long as this had been going on—another two weeks, so Shizuo had been here for a total of a month—and was surprised she waited so long to answer. It was a simple, one word question asked with all sincerity and no hint of mockery or amusement.

_"Why?"_

_ "Ha?"_

_ Namie was looking at him and Izaya took his eyes away from the papers regarding the facility's security measures to look at her. The woman was silent and Izaya could see the almost unnatural traces of curiosity spark in her eyes._

_ "Why do you care so much about Shizuo?"_

The answer was simple, he had assured her, and that was all he said.

A hand reached out and gripped the grey door handle, pushing it down and opening the door. The scent of sterility intensified and Izaya felt almost a gust of wind pushing him in. He took exactly three steps and let go of the door, allowing it to close behind him. It closed smoothly—one of the few doors that wasn't operated by electricity—and Izaya found that he wanted to be on that other side for just a couple more moments.

Getting in was easy. It was terribly hard for Shinra to make another identification card, but he did so, and the Izaya knew his best friend well enough to know how he would answer questions. He made it through the front desk easily—but that was as far as he would go. Upon waiting for the interview, he told the receptionist he suddenly had an appointment of the most pressing matters that he had to attend to. She looked surprised but Izaya apologized, saying that it was his fault, and he disappeared through the door and into a bathroom. 'Kishitani Shinra' had signed in at the desk and signed out; Izaya could only hope that was enough for his friend to not be a target of any attempts to find Shizuo. It should be, although the close coinciding times and relations would make it difficult.

It only took a few minutes for a researcher to pass by the bathroom, empty at these hours (something Izaya knew through hours of piecing together patterns from video surveillance.) He pulled him in and landed a swift hit on the back of his neck after elbowing him in retaliation. Izaya left the bathroom, tugging on his white lab coat with an extra set of clothes carefully wrapped around his body and hidden and looked confident, even giving a smirk that he swallowed—those sorts of facial expressions were uncommon in this area. He navigated through the building rather easily; memorization came easily to what seemed to be a nearly (or perhaps completely) photographic memory, and that comfort gave Izaya confidence.

But stepping into that room, all traces of confidence left Orihara Izaya.

Seeing his supposed enemy in such a situation had him forgetting to breathe for a moment. Izaya knew Shizuo as the fortissimo of Ikebukuro, the monster, the strongest man. But as he laid on the bed, skin so white and frame so thin, Izaya nearly didn't recognize him, had it not been for the blond hair. His height had his body taking up nearly the entire bed, yet, width wise, he seemed so small. The door closed behind him quietly with a click and Izaya took steps forward, quiet, padded footfalls.

He swallowed, again and again, trying to hydrate his throat enough to voice something. Natural poise held his body up and coat hanging straight; otherwise, the sight would have his body folding. The quiet beep of the machine was annoying him, not so much the high-pitched rhythm but that it was hooked up to the man. With a scowl, Izaya clicked it off; he regained composure quickly, just in case someone walked in, just in case he had to come up with an excuse.

The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating and Izaya had to take a moment. Fingertips brushed against together in a rhythm to calm himself as he took several breaths, listening to his own breathing. But he was wasting time, he knew; he was suddenly so conscious of the Bluetooth in his ear and swallowed, wishing again that there was a voice on the other end of the line.

"Hey. Shizu-chan. Time to leave."

He tried to sound light hearted, as if he was hoping that when brown eyes opened, the usual reaction of a murder attempt would happen. But Shizuo didn't stir, not at first, and that gave Izaya the time necessary to see all the wires attached to him. A rare fit of anger overtook the composed informant and he found himself ripping them off, every last needle and tube until his body was bare. No blood beaded from where there had been metal and skin seemed lighter from where bandages and tape were ripped off. The hospital gown Shizuo was in dipped where his body had lost fat and flesh; Izaya could see the concaves that had shadows pooled in them and he cringed; always slender but never thin, he had described Shizuo as, and it seemed awfully wrong. His eyes were closed but bags were still apparent and dark.

His eyes were closed and Izaya wanted them open, if only to confirm that they could open. He tried to reassure himself that Shinra said Shizuo would be alive and, when a slight hand had two fingers under Shizuo's jawline, a heartbeat was confirmed. Slow, almost lethargic, but definitely present. Shizuo didn't look peaceful, but not tortured, and Izaya wondered if sleep was the safest time for him.

The thought made him want to hurl.

"Heiwajima Shizuo. Wake up right now."

The coolness that Izaya usually carried himself with evaporated and a hand reached out, shaking him. Shizuo's body moved far too easily with the movements of Izaya's hand and every shake was more fervent. The cot began to creak and Izaya only shook him harder; a flurry of desperation was in his eyes and he tried to calm himself, tell himself that Shizuo was alive. If the machines were attached, the man wondered if the sounds they recorded would be any different—it would have showed signs that something was happening and that was better than nothing.

_"Why do you care so much about Shizuo?"_

The answer Izaya hadn't voiced, but he knew it the entire time.

_"I'm the only one that needs to know about him."_

_ He's mine._

Slowly, he could see stirrings in the man's body and kept a hand on Shizuo's shoulder as the vehement shaking shut. Beneath eyelids, Izaya could see movement and his body froze as he awaited for them to open. Slowly, lashes lifted and he saw brown and white, coupled with a glassy, dazed look that he hoped was permanent.

"…Shizu… chan?"

The informal suffix slipped from Izaya's mouth, trying to keep a tone of normalcy, despite his cracked voice. Shizuo was looking at nothing, expression blank and eyes looking straight up. But when he heard Izaya, he slowly moved his head to look at him slowly.

And the way Shizuo looked at Izaya was terrifying.

Empty, those brown eyes were empty, and Izaya wondered if there would ever be anything to rid them of that hollowness again. He was looking at him with a child's innocence and naivety, something Izaya had no possession of but knew Shizuo had—to some extent. But this was too much, like he had reverted to a child's mentality and if it was a self defense mechanism of the body, then…

"Don't!"

It was the first word he spoke and Izaya nearly jumped back at the way Shizuo flinched away, realizing the physical contact. He sat up and brought a hand to where Izaya had touched him, staring at him with wide eyes and it dawned on Izaya that physical contact was the worst thing to do; he didn't want to think of what he had been subjected to.

"Shizu-chan," he tried, holding his hands up, showing him his palms, "Shizu-chan, I'm not going to hurt you, I…"

"Stay away!"

He was scared, Izaya saw, the first semblances of true fear in Shizuo's eyes. He never looked that scared while fighting with Izaya or anyone else, and suddenly there was such an abundance of fear that his brown eyes were like bottomless pits. His body was shaking and he regarded Izaya so warily that the informant began to wonder if he really did look like a monster; how to calm him down, Izaya thought, how did he calm someone down who was most probably betrayed by every human being in this building?

"Shizu-cha… Shizuo," he shook his head and darted a glance at the door, hoping the noise didn't attract attention. "Shizuo, we have to get out of here. I'm not one of them, all right?"

He had been frantic, so frantic that he didn't even think of stripping himself of the clothes he donned. The glasses were thrown off as well as the coat and Izaya searched his body for anything to remind him, to prove to Shizuo that he wasn't a researcher. Fingers passed over a bulge in his pockets and he remembered his flick blade; it was pulled out and flipped it open, although didn't point it at him.

"Shizuo," he tried again as he held the knife, "look, I'm not a researcher. Izaya. Orihara Izaya."

He didn't say anything, but Izaya could tell by the surprised look instead of fearful one that something had shifted. He let out a sigh of relief and dared to move closer as the blade pocketed. Since the white coat had fallen away from his shoulders, he detected Shizuo relaxing and it made sense; the researchers were most probably identified by those coats.

Without quite thinking and doing what he thought was natural, what he had done to Mairu and Kururi when they were children and had woken from a nightmare, Izaya found himself resorting to an older brother. One hand reached up slowly and wrapped around Shizuo's wrist gently and slowly, guiding his hand so the blond's palm was towards him. Izaya's other hand came up and gently pressed to Shizuo's, matching their hands.

"See?"

Izaya looked at him, his face betraying no emotion, watching the way Shizuo's body relaxed as he stared at their hands.

"I'm not here to hurt you."

It had always worked for Mairu and Kururi. Whenever they awoke screaming, certain that the boy who ran into their rooms was the bad guy from their dreams and not a sleep-deprived older brother that had to take care of his little sisters, pressing their hands together, murmuring quietly always calmed them down. To see that it worked on Shizuo was comforting, yet confirmed that his mentality had altered and Izaya could only hope it wasn't permanent.

The silence in the room echoed around them, filling the space between the two and Izaya found himself growing prickled with annoyance. The kindness and patience he wore was a feint; they needed to get out of here, he would do anything he had to in order to achieve that. But Shizuo's surprise was genuine and the lack of anger that was present on his expression made Izaya want to snap at him.

But he'd wait; he wouldn't force Shizuo, make this any harder than it already was. A quick glance at the door told him that no one was going to enter the room, and he gave a sigh at that. While his back had been turned, a sudden squeeze alerted his senses and he nearly flinched, had it not been for a sharp mind that remembered his hand was linked with Shizuo's.

It was beyond eccentric to hold such a peaceful moment with him, be the one to calm him instead of annoy him. The way Shizuo held his hand was too intimate for Izaya and he glared at the way long fingers curled between his, gripped at his palm. He was shaking, Izaya thought with disgust, he was scared.

_Shizu-chan, this is pathetic._

The thought filtrated into his mind, even though he knew Shizuo had every reason to react this way. No matter how strong he was, he, Izaya supposed, was human—in the most basic sense. He had most probably been physically, emotionally, mentally violated, and here was a shell of the most feared man in Ikebukuro.

_You're not my Shizu-chan anymore._

_Heiwajima Shizuo._

"Shizuo," he said quietly. "We need to go. Shinra and Celty are waiting."

Shizuo still didn't move and Izaya had to give a sigh, recollect himself. Patience was something he had plenty of under normal circumstances, but the current irked him beyond belief. This wasn't Shizuo. This wasn't the Heiwajima Shizuo that Orihara Izaya was the rival of. This was some pathetic shell, some remnant of the fortissimo of Ikebukuro. He was weak and scared, timid and shaking, he was _disgusting_. So human.

_You're not allowed to be human._

_You're a beast._

"Shizuo?"

This time recognition seemed to alight hazel eyes and a slow, miniscule nod was given. Izaya took a step back and their hands lost the contact. Legs were slow in the way they swung over the side of the cot, the pathetic excuse of a bed creaking with the way he moved. Izaya watched as Shizuo stood slowly, fingers curling to support himself. Bare feet made contact with the floor and it took him a few minutes to stand by himself, slowly putting weight onto his feet.

_Have you not walked at all?_

"Good," Izaya said instead of the question he thought. His hand slipped beneath his coat and reached under his shirt—he was thankful no one particularly looked and the clothes he donned were too big—and handed the shirt and pants to Shizuo. "Can you put these on?"

It was like talking to a kindergartner and Izaya was growing wearisome, but knew interrogating him would have to wait once they got out. Leading a patient around the facilities was far too obvious and Izaya didn't know enough about the medical procedures here to procure a lie. Saying this was a fellow researcher that had forgotten his identification was far easier and probably more plausible to believe.

As the hospital gown slipped off of Shizuo's body, Izaya cringed at the bones that showed beneath skin too pale. There were bruises and scabs—probably from testing, he thought dryly—and Shizuo didn't seem to feel Izaya's gaze. Slowly, almost painfully, he slipped the new clothing on. Like Izaya's second set of clothes, they proved to be a bit too big, but larger was better than smaller, especially for somewhere like this. While he had been getting dressed, Izaya was doing the same, putting on what he had thrown off in a frenzy earlier.

"Shoes…"

Izaya frowned as he looked down at Shizuo's bare feet and the crisp slippers beside them. They didn't show any signs of use and didn't seem to be any use; most probably they were there for show, a desperate plea to show humanity from the wretched.

"Shizuo, wait here."

Another nod was given and Shizuo slowly sat back onto the bed. Turning on his heel, Izaya walked through the facility with more confidence than he had this entire time, veering into a supplies closet whose location he had memorized a while ago. If anyone asked, Izaya was ready to say a curt 'spill' as he brought back shoes he had found—in a place such as this, where uniform was of such high importance, he even found an extra lab coat—and returned to Shizuo's room without a rush.

He was in the same position, looking as blankly as he did before. When the door opened, he turned to it, yet his expression didn't change as Izaya approached him.

"Here."

The shoes went on easily and the length of the pants obscured the fact he had no socks on. But the white coat he was wary of; Shizuo stared at it for several moments and Izaya had to ask again for him to take it. Slowly, fingers reached out and curled around the fabric but jerked back, as if they sent a shock through him. Izaya stayed still and waited for him to try again, his silence the request that Shizuo begrudgingly agreed to.

It seemed painful, more so than the clothing, the way Shizuo pulled on the lab coat. The raven watched impassively; he would do psychological evaluation on his own while Shinra did his—undoubtedly, the doctor would do so, a mixture of benefit for Shizuo and curiosity for himself. A thin stream of breath sounded and Shizuo's eyes closed as he felt the weight of the coat on his body, shoulders brought up as if he wanted to shrink himself away, disgusted.

"You'll be able to take it off soon. Let's go, Shizuo."

It seemed the sound of Izaya's voice comforted him, an odd realization, as Shizuo's eyes opened and he gave a nod. Izaya gave a series of commands—'back straight,' 'chin up,' 'don't look scared,' 'hands in your pockets if you don't know what to do with them,' 'walk straight,' 'not too fast'—all that Shizuo obeyed. After a few initial stumbling steps, Shizuo seemed to reclaim the grace of walking and Izaya gave a nod.

"Let's go."

A hand reached up and activated the Bluetooth under dark strands of hair. A ringing took place that soon ended with Shinra's loud 'IZAYA' in his ear, followed by the sound of a hit. Izaya gave a dry smirk as he listened to muffled whining and frantic typing; Shinra's anxiety either led him to be serious or delirious, and it seemed it had become the latter this time.

"What took you so long?!"

"Ah, sorry. That doesn't matter, does it? I'm with Shizuo now."

There was a brief pause, and Izaya could only imagine attributing it to the use of Shizuo's full name instead of his nickname. But it felt odd to call this shell the same name he called his rival, this human the name of a beast. Shizuo, it was. Unless he saw the one he knew again.

"Okay, good. How is he?"

"Responsive," he replied simply, adding, "and like a dazed child" after a moment.

"He's most probably drugged," Shinra answered and Izaya blinked in surprise.

_Of course._

No matter how much trauma he had suffered, hatred would have flickered once he saw Izaya. That had been the idea of sending the raven in, after all; they wanted to garner the biggest reaction from Shizuo. Combined with his intelligence and quick thinking, that had made Izaya the ideal one to infiltrate.

"You know how to get out, right?"

"Walk me."

He fitted the Bluetooth to his ear and pulled strands of hair to cover it. The other hand raised and fingers crooked in Shizuo's direction, indicating him to follow. As expected, he did, and the door was pulled open. A sharp breath sounded in his ear and Izaya's 'shh' soothed it away as they began to walk, two pairs of dress shoes' heels clicking against clean floors, two slender men walking side by side.

Izaya had to admit, Shizuo was doing a good job. The quiet nature was more than suited for him and as long as they didn't pass anyone who he had come in contact with, Izaya figured they would be all right. Sneaking a glance, Shizuo looked disturbingly in place: quiet, calm, serious. There was a certain dead quality in his eyes that made him look empty, a facial expression the informant observed on video cameras so often.

_"Take the first right, then the third left. A flight of stairs and the second left. Keep walking to the end of the hallway, then turn right. There's an exit and go down the stairs. We're in the black car waiting."_

Shinra had given the instructions in full and then began to narrate them again as he, Izaya assumed, watched the two from video surveillance set up from the car. He was grateful for the isolation; earlier it had made him uneasy, but now it put him at rest. People meant two things: opportunities for them to realize intruders and for them to realize that Shizuo wasn't supposed to be up and walking about.

Every turn had Izaya's fingers rubbing against each other, counting 'one, two, three, four' to calm himself, set a rhythm that he was completely in control of. He could sense Shizuo's presence beside him and that was all he needed to know that the blond was still there, not having disappeared or stopped.

The informant couldn't help but wonder what would happen to Shizuo when they were back in the city. He thought little of what would happen when the researchers realized he was missing—what could they do, announce a subject of human testing was gone?—but had a plan, regardless. It was the problem as to how Shizuo would become accustomed again to habitual life.

He hadn't been here long, but the short duration was far too much for anyone. He was quiet, even if drugged, and timid. Shinra's, Izaya thought, would probably be the safest, somewhere where a medical professional could monitor him. As for if the doctor wanted to perform his own tests, Izaya didn't care.

Although he knew that Shinra wouldn't dare try any medical procedures on him right now and take advantage of this scarred vulnerability.

"I—"

"Sh."

Immediately, Izaya silenced Shizuo, before the full first syllable of his name could be pronounced. His reaction was sharp and offered no extra words; until they were out, until they were in the car, he didn't want to risk any conversation. Besides running, Izaya had no clear back up clan for if they were caught. A quick mouth may be able to buy him some time, but flick blades would be useless against stun guns and a lethal injection, things that he saw while studying.

Another corner turned, and Izaya knew that the end of this hallway lay the exit. Shinra and Celty would be just beyond the double set of doors beneath a red, flashing 'EXIT,' one Izaya had never been more grateful to see. Every footstep seemed heavier to take, every click of the heel louder. His blood pounded in his ears as the door neared.

"Kamiga-san!"

Izaya nearly flinched, had it not been for his self composure upon the name but ignored it; it wasn't uncommon for coworkers to talk to each other, he thought and breathed a sigh of relief. _It's fine._

"Kamiga-san!"

Except, the raven thought, this person was persistent. His voice seemed strained, yet Izaya couldn't merely turn around. Curiosity, he thought, wasn't something that would be normal here. The door neared and Izaya could almost reached out and touch the door handle, Shizuo still by him and silent.

"Kamiga-san!"

He sounded angry now, and Izaya found himself jerked around. A hand was on his shoulders and pale fingers immediately curled around the knife in his pocket. From the corner of his eye, he saw the way Shizuo flinched and took a step back, but there was no reaction other than that—it seemed this wasn't one of the scientists that was assigned to him. Several blinks reminded Izaya of whose identity he had adopted and cursed himself for making such a stupid mistake.

"…Ah, sorry, I didn't hear."

He feigned an apologetic smile, reached a hand up to fix his glasses. "I, ah… have an ear infection. A sort of flu, I think."

_Stupid_, he cursed himself. He had forgotten the name of his name on the identification card, only using it to swipe himself in. The characters of Kamiga were familiar to him and he could now remember seeing them flash on the screen, but unless he had been called that, he'd never be able to say that was his name.

"You should have that checked out," the other said monotonously, and quickly changed the subject to asking "have you finished the report?"

"Hm? Of course. Just stepping out for a bit of air, hope it'll help my illness."

"I see. I'll go pick it up, then, shall I?"

Izaya nodded. "No problem."

He was regarded with another wary look but released, the man walking away. Turning around, Izaya murmured 'let's go' under his breath and pushed the door open. He had approximately forty seconds, he knew, from now until the man realized that there was no report and, probably, that he wasn't Kamiga, to get out of here.

The door opened and Izaya stepped out, Shizuo following suit, slipping out. Red eyes scanned the vicinity for the black car and found it a bit away, approaching them already. "Shizuo," he said and turned to look at him, "let's go. Shizuo."

He was staring at the sky and Izaya would have loved to give him the time to appreciate nature, but he was impatient. A hand reached out and curled around Shizuo's wrists, pulling him harshly towards the car. This was the last bit; the plan had gone smoothly, incredibly so, and while it was what Izaya had expected, he didn't want to jinx it. The raven didn't come with the intention of using the gun still hidden in his pants, and he hoped that he didn't have to. His heart was racing and he thought back to the man left in the bathroom, the fake report, the empty bed, and gave a smirk as he opened the car door and ushered Shizuo in first before sliding in himself, slamming the door shut. Tinted windows allowed him to relax as the deserted area, he had realized while looking around, made sure no one saw the two get in.

"Drive."

Celty began driving immediately, although not too quickly, to not draw attention to an otherwise well camouflaged black car. At any point that door would open, Izaya knew, and 'Kamiga' would be questioned thoroughly—once he woke up, anyway.

From the passenger seat, Shinra craned his body and was uncharacteristically serious as he reached a hand out to take Shizuo'. The blond recoiled at first but Izaya absentmindedly put his hand on the other's arm, calming him down. If Shinra found it odd, he certainly said nothing, and Izaya didn't tear his gaze away from the window to look.

"Pulse is fine… skin a bit cold… lost weight… eyes dull…"

As Shinra rambled observations under his breath, Izaya kept his hand on Shizuo's arm—it seemed to help, for whatever reason—and he could feel his heart begin to subside its rapid heartbeat.

The frenzy that would result from Shizuo missing would have to be contained. They wouldn't risk having this leak and even Shinra would be spared, particularly because of the knowledge that he lived with the infamous Headless Rider as well as, Izaya hoped, his supposed signing out. While they would undoubtedly be interested in Celty, Izaya also knew that aliens, the supernatural weren't quite their department, and they would be wary in how to capture her. Likewise, Shinra was under her protection—and the blackmail he had from everything he knew should guarantee his safety. If not, Izaya would have his ways, but he much rather preferred to keep it for something in the future.

Beside him. Shizuo was still as Shinra did his best for an impromptu check up, muttering things. Once Celty had left the facility and driven a good few miles away, definitely out of eyesight, her foot pressed down on the gas pedal more and the engine of the car hummed to life almost angrily, their speed seeming to almost double.

'Kamiga' would be discovered, tied up and somewhat nude in the bathroom. Wires would be a disarray in Shizuo's room, a pair of shoes and a lab coat would be missing. The identification card Izaya carried would be deactivated almost immediately. That report may or may not be finished. An empty bed would have people whispering and they would either hope Shizuo would stay quiet or come after him.

_If they do, I'll be there this time._

Fingers tightened around Shizuo's arm, yet there wasn't anger in Izaya's face. He was smirking, instead, an arrogant sneer on thin lips as his free hand came up to remove his glasses.

_No one messes with **my** Shizu-chan._

* * *

_**author's notes**__: this was hard to write because I felt like Izaya and Shizuo were so awfully out of character, especially the latter. but Izaya will return to, mostly, his character next chapter. and Shizuo slowly will become Shizuo again, I do hope._

_once again, the idea for this was given to me by a lovely anonymous from Tumblr, and I thank you for allowing me to write this. I hope to do your idea justice and I very much hope you will enjoy reading it. the same sentiments go to anyone reading this; thank you and comments or critiques would always be appreciated!_


	2. he's yours, izaya

**disclaimer**: **don't own.**

* * *

**chapter two: "he's yours, izaya."  
**

When he came to, it was cold and leather restraints kept his body down.

He had tried to sit up, but Shizuo found his limbs were only capable of lifting a few centimeters from the cool, metal table he was on. His head was free to move and a quick scan in the seemingly vacant room, filled only with what seemed to be primitive supplies, had his heartbeat quickening and a scowl on lips devoid of their usual cigarette. Whatever these restraints were made of, he cursed, were strong. That, or something had happened to his strength, rendering him incapable of freeing himself.

A flurry of thoughts whirl-winded through his mind, yet none of them slowed down enough for him to untangle them. But it was evident that anxiety and anger were blended together, knotted so finely he wasn't sure if he even wanted to separate them. Who, what, how, when, why were questions that dominated is thought as he struggled, yet to no avail. Hot tempered as he was, Shizuo was also logical and quickly realized there was no point in struggling against something that was impossible.

Relaxing, Shizuo's eyes closed and he tried to calm his breathing as he recalled the events that had transpired earlier that day. He had been let off from work early that day and was interrupted on his way home. They hadn't been people he couldn't handle, even in a group of four, but Shizuo found a sharp, concentrated pain in his neck that left him feeling dizzy. The bag he had been holding of that night's dinner, consisting of ramen and a few strawberry milks, was dropped and the last thing Shizuo remembered was his cheek pressing to cold, rough concrete, low murmurs and the feeling of hands on his arms to pull him up.

Struggling again, it was no use, and the blond had to succumb to the restraints. He wasn't sure how much time had passed until the metal clang of a door opening caught his attention, it could have been hours or days, but he had no choice but to lay there until he was approached. Men, he wasn't sure if they were the same ones from before, appeared, their faces looming in his vision. They wore surgical masks and scrubs, hair hidden by caps and ominous masks concealing most of their faces. Any fear that welled in his body was quelled immediately and Shizuo glared at them, trying to keep himself composed. If they had him here, then there was no doubt in Shizuo's mind that they knew who he was and he wasn't going to let that image of him slip in front of them.

_"Who the hell are you? What the fuck do you want?"_

_ "Heiwajima Shizuo," one of them spoke in a low, formal tone. "The strongest man in Ikebukuro… unprecedented strength. We're interested in you."_

_ "I don't fuckin' care. Let me go right now or I'll kill-!" _

_ "Your seemingly inhuman tolerance for a human body is of great use to us," he continued. Turning to the side, a murmur later had a syringe in his hand and Shizuo's eyes widened at that, remembering what he assumed to have been a tranquilizer from earlier._

_ "O-Oi… what're…?"_

_ "You will help us," cut off again, the man approached Shizuo, "better society, Heiwajima-san."_

_ "W-wait… what the-?!"_

His attempts at remaining cool and collected faltered once he saw the syringe, the ominous looking liquid inside it. Pain was nothing; he could deal with them. It was the idea of being tested on—he figured that out quickly—and having something unknown injected into his body that scared Ikebukuro's strongest. It could have been anything from a virus to a remedy, and the unknown aspect was what was terrifying to him. He was strong, but he couldn't do anything that attacked his immune system. For all he knew, these people could be trying to see what it took to kill him.

And in that moment, Shinra seemed like a good doctor.

Shizuo could still remember the first injection. A twinge in his arm was disregarded in favor of the wooziness that followed quickly. His skin felt alight with fire and mind spun, eyes couldn't focus and his skin felt unimaginably hot the longer he laid there, unable to move. Lips were parted in an attempt to ask what it was, but he couldn't; his voice failed him and so did his strength as it seeped out of his body gradually.

It was only a few days later that he received the answers he sought, yet he hadn't been in any condition to ask. Eyes already lost luster and Shizuo was freed from restraints, but there was no effort to escape. Blankly, he stared at the ceiling; food was hardly touched and he numbly realized that one of the IVs hooked up to him was for nutrition. Doctors, or he thought that was who they were, came in and out, nurses the ones to take care of him, men in lab coats the ones that brought syringes and, naturally, the ones he shied away from.

The days lost rhythm to Shizuo and he began to separate them only with consciousness and sleep, tests and blackness. It wasn't like him to give up this readily, but a combination of drugs that deteriorated his body and the mentality had him succumbing, allowing them to do as they wished to him. He could hear chatter around him but made no effort to figure out what they were saying. He did what he was told and laid still, body jerking only with injection or a test.

It was the same man that spoke to him first that sat down one day after another series of tests.

_"Too much money is spent on human testing for drugs, because these drugs cannot overlap due to a normal tolerance level. You, Heiwajima-san, however, are capable of being administered several of these drugs at once. Naturally, there are limits, yet your body is amazing. It is able to tolerate negative consequences far better than others and recovery time is much shorter. You could be the future, Heiwajima-san, and the reason for a multitude of drugs that are released to the market, helping society. Rest assured, all of these have been tested on animals extensively; you are not the first."_

Shizuo had offered no response and words that were meant to console hardly did so. As he was told, all he remembered was days and days of needles and pills, being told to open, drink, and swallow. Nausea, headaches, chills, fevers, hallucinations, vomiting all plagued him, among other side effects that his delirious mind was incapable of recalling. And yet, he couldn't do anything; nurses quelled some of the side effects, but the moment they stopped, he was given something else.

The man had smiled and put a hand on his chest, a finger running down the middle.

_"While you're here… this body of yours is of great fascination to us researchers…"_

Tests. Drugs. Endurance. Scalpels. Blood. Pain. Screams.

Shizuo had been subjected to them for a month, a painful month in which he began to lose himself. He could feel it; it was as if every time a drug was injected into his body, a bit of him was taken out, to maintain the balance of matter that composed him. His pain tolerance began to give way after days and days of abuse; they eventually allowed anesthesia (having wanted to preserve it, they assumed he didn't need it) and the way they handled scalpels weren't nearly as graceful as Shinra. He remembered struggling so hard against restraints during conscious surgeries when they needed to "fix" something, when a drug had a more severe effect than they had predicted.

He could feel himself being cut open and it was a miracle the pain didn't have his entire body shut down.

Even with the anesthesia, sometimes the dosages were far too low and while the pain wasn't too great, he could feel hands in his body, the way the surgical instruments almost tickled him. He began to lose sense of himself, abide dumbly by whatever he was told to do. Run for three hours, fine. Take this pill, fine. Have his arm cut open, fine. Blood drawn, fine. Look into a microscope, fine. Look into a bright light for several seconds, fine.

It was as if he became a corpse, and no one there cared to stop him.

It was like that for days on end and he lost track. Every day was waking up, subjected to something, an attempt to be fed, and then sleep. Every day, a routine like that, no longer a will to fight, to escape, to survive. The first few days he still had enough willpower and logic to want to leave. If the restraints were off, he would try to leave, but an alarm always had someone coming to check on him or his legs didn't work—effect of something, but he didn't know what. He vaguely remembered being given something and then calling Kasuka, but he hardly remembered what he said. Everything was a hazy blur and he no longer had the will to separate them. Shizuo never admitted it, but a part of him accepted that he would die there.

Fitting, he thought, for his strength to be the reason for his downfall. They could do whatever they wanted with him; he had broken and it was almost embarrassing how easily the fortissimo of Ikebukuro fell. His physical strength, contrary to popular belief, didn't equate to his mentality; years of fear and disgust at himself left him with a fractured mind and weak psyche, if anything.

He thought he was going to die every time he went to sleep. They gave him drugs nearly every night; two, rather. One was to put him to sleep, ensure he would rest, and the other was something experimental and Shizuo never bothered to listen to what he was being given—if they had the decency to tell him. It never occurred to him to think about morality; he had been drained, cracked, and waiting to die. He hoped it would be painless, that, finally, the drugs would combine in a lethal fashion and he would pass out before his body gave in.

It was pathetic how easily he gave in, but at the same time, he felt that a part of this was deserved. He had hurt so many people and it was time for him to be hurt in return. The mentality made it all too easy for guilt to overtake logic; he deserved this, he thought, every bit of it and he would accept the pain he had caused others.

When his eyes opened to see someone hovering over him and say that he was there to help him escape, Shizuo's first reaction was that it was another test. It was a face that seemed familiar, yet Shizuo saw the lab coat first and natural instinct kicked in. He had been allowed to sleep extra long that day and so his hazy consciousness had the fight-or-flight response kicking in. Shizuo had grown fearful of them, of anyone in that white coat; this one, a small voice in the back of his mind said, was to test his mentality; nothing physical, purely mental, and it was terrifying. But when he put their hands together and offered such a kind look, he found himself relaxing. Even with the drug administered from before he slept, his conscience stirred and guilt began clearing to let the will to live shine through, tap at the surface of the ice.

_"Izaya. Orihara Izaya."_

The name had his breath hitching and it took a while for pieces to fall together in Shizuo's mind, but he eventually placed it. Izaya. Orihara Izaya, Shinjuku and Ikebukuro's infamous informant, his rival. Orihara Izaya.

Orihara Izaya had come to save him.

Part of it was the drug but the other part was pure and simple gratitude. Shizuo recognized that it was him, remembered their relationship, but those were facts and it meant nothing than the idea of escape. He found himself blindly trusting Izaya, trusting the way their hands touched, the way Izaya was calm and quiet, had nothing menacing lingering in his vermilion eyes. Facts had him remembering that he hated who this man was, but he didn't even wonder why Izaya had come to help him. He was just grateful for someone he knew, yet that gratitude was quiet. He was too tired to say anything, do anything, except listen and trust; he figured he had nothing to lose anymore.

The entire time, Shizuo was quiet. He didn't have the energy to speak or process; it was just easy, he found, to trust Izaya and follow his lead. He figured he had so little else to lose that falling into the raven and doing what he said without a second thought was better than nothing. Walking was something that he soon remembered how to do, although his legs felt weak. Beside the informant, even seeing the other researchers wasn't as intimidating. And when he felt Izaya's hand on his arm again in the car, he could feel himself let out a sigh and relaxing. Eyes slowly closed as he leaned back against the seat and, for the first time in a month, sleep wasn't drug induced and Shizuo fell slowly into unconsciousness without the dizzy feeling.

When he woke up, he was in Shinra's apartment.

* * *

"Shizuo! You're awake!"

The first thing the blond saw upon consciousness was a hand reaching towards him, and he immediately jerked away. Brown eyes were wide as he sat up and pressed his back to the headboard of the bed, trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the man he could recognize as Kishitani Shinra. Distantly, he had memories of being somewhat close with him, yet those memories were only on the surface and Shizuo couldn't bring himself to trust that touch. His body was trembling and feet kicked at the sheets as hands clawed at the pillow.

"Sh-Shizuo! Calm down! It's me, Shinra! Shizuo…!"

"Shizuo."

A second voice interrupted Shinra's and it was quieter, yet Shizuo picked up on it immediately. He looked to the door and saw Izaya leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression nonchalant. His body seemed to relax immediately and allowed Shinra to approach him upon seeing a nod given to him.

He knew who Orihara Izaya was and he knew who Kishitani Shinra was. And he knew that he was supposed to trust Kishitani Shinra over Orihara Izaya, yet his initial reaction was to trust the latter over the former. His past memories swam in his mind but they didn't mean anything to him. Shizuo could think back to them but nothing elicited a reaction. His past relationships were mere facts and none had an emotional value anymore. This was his first time waking up without being administered a drug, yet hands were on his body again and he closed his eyes, tried to ignore it.

The way Shinra touched him, though, was kinder. There was nothing cold, no medical instruments that would be used to prod at him, only bandages and warm fingers, checking his body. When eyes opened, he saw that Izaya was still watching him and there was an expression that he couldn't identify. It wasn't amusement, it wasn't anger, it wasn't interest.

It took him a few moments, but it was disgust.

Izaya looked disgusted at him, like he was scum. His eyes were narrowed and lips curled down into a frown, he looked at Shizuo like he was a vile animal and couldn't bear to be in his presence. But when the raven realized he was being looked at, his expression cleared to one of nonchalance and walked over.

"Shizuo," he said quietly. "Do you know who I am?"

He gave a nod.

"Do you know who he is?"

Izaya was referring to Shinra and, again, Shizuo gave a nod.

"Can you talk?"

His mouth opened but no speech came out and he quickly realized it was because he had nothing to say. Shizuo closed his mouth and shook his head, wanting to give the impression that he couldn't speak instead of being forced to. Izaya gave a nod and turned to Shinra, watching as he carefully inspected the blond. In the background, a door closed and hazel eyes looked up to see a headless figure walk in.

Celty, he thought immediately, Celty Sturluson.

He heard the sound of something being set down and the woman soon appeared next to Izaya, wisps of black smoke curling from her neck. Her fingers were wrapped around her PDA that she held to her chest and it seemed she was looking at him, stilling before fingers flew over the device. Izaya glanced over nonchalantly and gave a shake of his head; Shizuo had no idea what she asked but presumed it was about him, as her body faced in his direction again.

"Shinra."

The informant spoke to the doctor, head leaning against the door frame. Celty was holding the PDA to her chest again and Shizuo felt that she was looking at him. The curls of the shadows from her neck were indecipherable to the man on the bed; he wasn't Shinra, after all.

"Ask him how he is."

Shizuo didn't wonder why he wasn't asked directly; just because he couldn't feel that hatred didn't mean Izaya didn't. He could see it in the way Izaya looked at him; traces of disgust laced with hatred, and a new sort of interest flickered in his eyes. As instructed, Shinra relayed the message, but Shizuo gave no answer. Again, Shinra asked. And, again, Shizuo didn't answer.

"Izaya, outside?"

Standing from his bedside, Shinra motioned to Izaya and the two took their leave. Celty moved to the side to let them through the door and quietly closed it behind them, fingers wrapped around the door knob for a lingering moment before she walked over to Shizuo. Her foot steps were quiet, reminding him of the way Izaya had walked, and he didn't look at her. Peripheral vision watched her sit down next to him and hesitate before typing something.

_Is it easier to talk this way?_

Celty Sturluson, he remembered, was one of his closest friends. She always had this serene presence around him that he appreciated; for someone with a short temper, someone with infinite patience was the best contrast to him and he appreciated it. He read the message on the screen and felt a certain hollowness in his chest; how many times had he read this screen, he thought, and only too many had some sort of an emotion been elicited. But at this moment, he felt nothing, and that ached in him.

A nod was given and Celty offered him her PDA, Shizuo understanding that to mean that the woman wanted some kind of communication that went beyond movements of the head. The way he took the PDA was slow and arm movements stiff and almost broken seeming, like a doll whose limbs no longer worked properly. It didn't hurt, but he typed slowly and it took him a while.

_Yes._

She couldn't smile, but when he looked at her, the smoke seemed kinder.

* * *

"Shock."

"Obviously."

"Izaya."

Shinra's eyes narrowed at his blunt answer and the informant didn't apologize, but didn't offer another retort. Seated at the couches and with coffee, Izaya found himself glancing at the bedroom door and feeling nothing but disgust. That wasn't Heiwajima Shizuo, he wanted to say, that empty shell was a pathetic excuse of a man. Shizuo had interested him; he had always been the exception because he was more than a husk. There was a person there and there was substance, so different from everyone else.

Now a shell, Izaya had grown tired of him and wanted to dispose of him like a broken toy.

"I think…" Shinra started slowly, "that he remembers anything. But the lingering effects of what he's gone through have rendered a sort of disconnect from his feelings. You can tell he knows who we are, he just doesn't feel."

An eyebrow arched. "So he doesn't hate me?"

"I'm sure he knows he does. He just doesn't feel it."

"I see."

Izaya took another sip of his drink with furrowed brows, a show of emotion he allowed himself to indulge in only around the company of Kishitani Shinra. The coffee was bitter on his tongue, just the way he liked it, although the taste was hardly registered. Izaya had thought Shizuo's behavior odd and came to the same conclusion himself, yet it was a doctor's opinion that solidified it in his mind.

He couldn't bear to look at Shizuo, at the shell that was once his rival. If Shinra was right, if Shizuo retained all his memories but had lost his emotional connection, then Izaya couldn't help but feel bored with him. A disconnected human was nothing to him; Heiwajima Shizuo was as good as dead to Orihara Izaya.

But at the same time, he was interested. What had he gone through to leave such an impact on him, sever his ability to feel, render him a marionette with cut strings? While Izaya had seen scars, had assumed drugs, Shinra had told him he would conduct a more thorough investigation later and report anything that had happened. Izaya didn't want to care—Shizuo was no longer Shizuo—but he did. Just how did the mentality of the strongest man in Ikebukuro break, and how badly did it shatter?

He had always wanted to see Shizuo like this, Izaya thought. He was just angry that he hadn't been the one to break him.

"But…"

Vermilion eyes raised to look at Shinra, noting a sudden discomfort. "Out with it, Shinra."

"I think Shizuo's attached himself to you."

Izaya almost spit out his coffee.

"It's just an idea," Shinra added quickly, putting his hands up. As he watched Izaya bring a hand up to his mouth and cough, hitting his chest, the brunet continued to speak. "You were the one who got him out of there, after all. You were the first person he's probably felt like he's able to trust in a while. And in the car, and just now, you're the only one he really responds to. It's because of that disconnect; he knows he hates you, but he doesn't feel it."

"If he's emotionally incapacitated," Izaya said dryly, "then he shouldn't be able to feel attached to anyone."

"True. But I think that it's less of an emotional thing and more of a desire to be protected."

"He wants me to be his protector?"

The idea almost had Izaya laughing, a raucous laugh that would have seemed odd to come out of lips so smooth. Izaya's mouth curled into a maniacal sort of grin at the idea. "Shizuo wants _me_ to protect _him_? He's really lost it then."

Using the Heiwajima's proper name came easily to Izaya; it was almost startling how quickly he was able to adjust how he addressed him. But, as he had felt in the car, when he looked at the man, it wasn't Shizu-chan anymore. Shizu-chan wasn't Shizu-chan if he had no emotional connections and was nothing more than a storage of memories and facts. _Too bad_, Izaya found him thinking only too often, _you were actually holding my interest…_

Shizuo had been fallen asleep when they arrived at Shinra's apartment, figuring it was the most convenient (in terms of treating him) and better than Shizuo's apartment. Izaya had lingered by the door and nearly left before curls of shadows wrapped around his limbs and Celty restrained him. As he floated mid air for several moments, he impassively read Celty's words, meant to guilt trip him.

'_Aren't you going to stay?'_

_ "I see no reason to."_

_ 'Shizuo's going to want to see you when he wakes.'_

_ "And how do you know that?"_

_ She hesitated before answering._

_ 'I just do.'_

His back hurt from sleeping on the couch that night, a mixture of the less than desirable sleeping arrangements and from helping Shinra to support Shizuo up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. The three of them had sat in the kitchen for a long while, the two who ate not caring that lunch nor dinner have been served all the day, and cradled hot mugs of coffee instead. Celty's fingers remained over her PDA, encasing the device quietly, ready to type a response to anything either of them may say. But Shinra was quiet and his lips moved, yet those words—medical phrases, Izaya could read—were for himself. And Izaya had nothing to say.

Shinra and Celty retired to their rooms, leaving Izaya on the couch in the living room. He could see a crack open to the guest bedroom and knew that Shizuo was there. But he didn't go and check on him; he had no desire to do so, see, again, what disgusted him so immensely. Closing his eyes, he turned on his side and attempted to sleep, but he laid awake for hours.

_What did they do to you?_ he found himself wondering. While he would never bring himself to ask, he wondered if observation would tell him of what Shizuo had underwent. Most of the experiments were drugs, Shinra had said, but hesitated after saying that. Curious, Izaya remembered taking a step closer and seeing what had silenced him.

They weren't prominent—and Shinra said they would be permanent but not glaringly so—but scars lined his body, some red, some pink, some already white. But the color wasn't of importance; it was that he had been cut into that had Izaya's fists clenching.

_The bastards cut into my Shizu-chan._

Shinra added he wouldn't know for what reason until he could ask Shizuo when he woke, but considering he was still alive, it most likely wasn't anything harmful. But the words hardly registered in Izaya's mind; anger had infiltrated him and the doctor sensed it, asking Celty to direct Izaya out of the room.

Physical or mental scarring, he had always thought, which was worse? He wondered what Shizuo's answer would be, having undergone traumatic events that would have induced both. A sick smirk had found its place on the Orihara's lips at the thought of that; it seemed that Shizuo could still captivate his attention.

_I'm not sick of you yet, it seems._

"I don't think…" Shinra started but paused, reaching a hand up to fix his glasses. "It's not that implausible for Shizuo to see you as his savior, Izaya. After an event like that… the first friendly face he saw was yours…"

"Friendly?"

Grey eyes looked up and Izaya glared at the soft smile Shinra wore.

"How else were you acting to him in the car?"

Izaya stiffened at the innocently posed question, but his expression fell to an annoyed one as he growled at Shinra. Of course he would bring that up, the informant thought, he had been waiting for it. The feeling of his fingers on Shizuo's arm had felt disgusting, direct skin-to-skin contact raising goose bumps on Izaya's own pallor. But he had been preoccupied by that time, mind elsewhere.

It had been odd to be the one physical with Shizuo instead of the other way around; usually, it was the blond that tried to grab him, but in that one moment of what Izaya supposed was kindness, he found himself reaching out for the bodyguard, thinking that maybe human contact, trusted human contact, would help him.

"It was to keep him calm," Izaya answered and took a sip of his coffee. "Did you want him to disrupt Celty's driving?"

"But that made him trust you," Shinra countered and Izaya's scowl darkened. "After something like that, any human is going to cling to anything that makes them feel better. You may not have been friendly, but you were the first person he saw in a long time that didn't have negative intentions. And in a time like that, when emotions are compromised, new ones are formed from stemming logic. He sees you as a savior, you know. He's only going to feel safe with you around."

Shinra fell silent as he raised his mug to take another sip and Izaya didn't offer any biting words. He gave a 'tch' and looked away as an arm draped over the back of the couch. The slender man leaned back and crossed his legs; one mug was balanced on a bony knee precariously, thin fingers curled around the handle. The doctor's words made sense; as the one who knew more about human psychology between them, Izaya accepted that basic knowledge. The only thing that hindered him from accepting it fully was his own personal feelings; bias, he always thought, should be left out of serious situations. And he had managed to, for a while. But his limit had been used up and wanted to go back to his life without Heiwajima Shizuo.

"So," Shinra continued, "I think Shizuo should stay with you."

Izaya had been taking a sip of coffee that was very promptly spit out again.

"What are-?!"

"It's for both of your benefits!" Shinra cut him off. "Shizuo's with someone he trusts until he recovers fully and you get to observe him! But don't do anything weird to him!"

"Have him stay with Kasuka. Or you."

"But we're not you!"

_"Obviously,"_ Izaya answered, unable to help the bitter sarcasm that dripped in his words. "I'm not living with him."

"But Shizuo needs you!"

"I don't care."

"Izaya…!"

Ignoring Shinra, Izaya stood up and headed towards the kitchen. The coffee had grown cold, he thought, and watched it pour down the sink. Shifting was heard and he knew Shinra had turned around on the couch, peripheral vision seeing hands curl around the back of the couch.

"He needs something he can rely on! Someone he trusts! You're the only one he does, so it can only be you! And he'll be fine soon. It's not like it'll be permanent."

Izaya placed the emptied mug on the counter. "I don't want to."

His kindness extended only to rescuing Shizuo from that testing facility. Once they were out of there, once they returned to Ikebukuro, Izaya wanted nothing else to do with someone who was so horribly _boring_ and so awfully _average_. Spindly fingers let go of the handle of the mug, but Izaya didn't leave the kitchen.

From across the space, he heard Shinra give an exaggerated sigh and extend the silence for a few more moments. "Then… what if you don't look at this as a favor for him but, rather, a favor for yourself?"

Dark eyes cast a gaze upon him. "Impossible."

Shinra shook his head. "You get to observe him. Don't you like it when people are at their most miserable? And it's Shizuo; you know he's human, Izaya, no matter what you say. He's human and he's fallen apart. And you have the capability to put him back together. You're probably not going to because you're an asshole, but just… don't let him shatter anymore."

The doctor's words made sense, Izaya thought as he turned around. Elbows rested on the counter and a single finger traced the rim of the mug, wishing it were a wine glass so there would be a high pitched noise to fill the silence. "I don't want to."

Shinra whined. "Why not?"

_I don't want him to get better._

The confession he made to himself had Izaya's brow furrowing and free hand clenching, nails biting into the flesh of his hand. Heiwajima Shizuo would no longer be a nuisance. The brute had been rendered nearly completely useless; even though he retained his strength, he was clearly in no position to utilize it. Time and time again, Izaya had found himself having to change his plans or alter them because of Shizuo, who had an uncanny ability to catch up with Izaya, no matter how many steps ahead he was.

Izaya never let anyone know, but he had been forced to go to Shinra's too many times on account for an injury due to Shizuo. His pain tolerance was high enough for him to walk on a sprained ankle for a bit before having to limp and favor the other leg, not wanting Shizuo to have the satisfaction of knowing that Izaya injured himself during one of their fights, that Shizuo wasn't the only one to get hurt.

Shizuo was an even opponent for Izaya and he despised it.

Izaya didn't want an equal; he wanted humans and he wanted them to love him, fear him, respect him. The existence of Shizuo ruined everything and made his plans far more difficult than they had to be. His unpredictability had Izaya scowling, hating that there was one person he wouldn't be able to read and manipulate so easily.

_And he makes me feel ashamed._

Shame for what, he found himself wondering, but a clear answer never came; the feeling burned at him and he felt he had been branded by Heiwajima Shizuo. Maybe he was so pure that Izaya felt tainted in a sickening way, distorted and twisted, disgusting and monstrous, more so than Shizuo himself. That shame lingered whenever he thought about him and had Izaya wanting to spit in anger; he had no right to make him feel that way, a true monster had no right to make a human feel ashamed.

As much of a monster as Shizuo was, Izaya still watched the way people flocked to him. They liked him, even though he was a monster, and Izaya found himself alone, even though he was human. He hated that and couldn't comprehend it; Shizuo's company bothered him more than his own loneliness, and just watching the blond make friends and relationships had Izaya's fists clenching and brow furrowing.

_Why? You're a monster… why does no one see that?_

He couldn't understand Shizuo and Izaya loathed it.

_I hate him._

Dark eyes flickered to to the couch that Shinra was been occupying as Izaya glanced over his shoulder. Shizuo was rendered out of commission, so to speak, and nothing more than an empty shell. He was virtually no threat to his plans in this state, and perhaps people would leave him, once realizing that nothing could be done. Granted, he would have people still, but far fewer. He'd be alone, just as monsters should be.

A hand reached up to rub a strand of black hair between his thumb and index finger, still frowning. Relief should have sated him; Izaya thought he should be much happier and relieved now that Shizuo wouldn't hinder his plans anymore. And yet, a discomfort lodged itself in the cavity of his chest, between his bones, and hindered the way he breathed, his heart beat. It was inexplicable and he tried to discern what it was, dissect it, but to no avail; the answer eluded him until he heard Shinra whine again.

_I wasn't the one that defeated him._

The realization had Izaya's breath stilling and blood running cold as chills prickled his expression. All this time he had only been considering the aftermath and never thought about the victory itself. He had always been Shizuo's opponent; he was the only one evenly matched. Shizuo was his; no one else was allowed to lay a finger upon him.

Shizuo, in this state, was useless. He was nothing but a shadow of who he had been, not nearly matching any standards to be Izaya's opponent; he was no longer the one person that could stop him. But Izaya wasn't the one that defeated him; someone had interfered in their match and while the loser was Shizuo, the victor wasn't Izaya.

And that angered him.

A glare crossed Izaya's features as he straightened up, hand shifting and causing the mug to nearly topple over, ignoring Shinra's startled questions. Long legs carried him the distance to Shizuo's room and a hand reached out to throw the door open, ignore the loud bang of it hitting the wall. Shizuo jumped but fear quickly receded from his expression upon seeing it was Izaya, and only surprise remained. His mouth opened, probably to ask his name, but nothing came out, and Izaya found himself growing angry again.

_I'm not why you can't talk._

_I'm not why you're broken._

_I want to be the reason why._

He was selfish with all his humans and, though he said otherwise, Shizuo was human; the fact that he was so affected and had such a human response was proof of that. He may not have been the reason Shizuo was as he was, but Izaya did take credit for luring the monstrous side of him out, thinking he was the only one capable of pushing Shizuo to that point. In a sense, he thought that he was the one that created the monster he wanted everyone to know about.

He took a breath before walking to Shizuo's bedside and looked down at him. Izaya's glare was returned with a gaze—why wasn't he scared?, the raven though, why was there no fear in those eyes?—and clenched his fists.

"Do you trust me?"

Shizuo nodded.

"Why?"

He opened his mouth but nothing came out again, and looked away. Izaya gave a sigh and closed his eyes; a sigh moved his chest and had his shoulders relaxing, hands unclenching.

"…It's fine. I get it."

Izaya looked around and pulled a chair up to sit down in. Shinra and Celty watched from the door, but made no attempts to move closer as Izaya looked to Shizuo.

"Give me your hand."

His hand was held out and Izaya could see Shinra raise an eyebrow in surprise. Holding Shizuo's hand was never something Izaya had an interest in, but he had an ulterior motive. As he watched the blond's hand slowly come up and rest in his, Izaya allowed a small smile that was easily misinterpreted for relief tug upon his lips.

"So you do trust me…"

Unquestioningly doing what was told of him, not hesitating were signs of trust and Izaya had confirmed that Shizuo did put his confidence in him. Giving a nod, Izaya withdrew his hand and stood, back of his knees pushing the chair away as he left Shizuo's room. Celty stayed in while Shinra followed him out, watching as Izaya picked up his mug in the kitchen to refill it with coffee on another counter.

"…Izaya, what are…"

"I'll do it," he interrupted him as he replaced the coffee pot, cradling his second mug of coffee with both hands.

"Er… I'm having second thoughts…"

"I'm the only one who can. He doesn't trust anyone else."

Izaya turned around and leaned against the edge of the counter, giving a smirk as he took a sip of the scorching drink. Worry clearly creased Shinra's brows as he adjusted black frames and looked at him. It made sense for him to worry, Izaya thought, but he had no ill intentions—not in helping Shizuo to recover, anyway.

"If you're going to take advantage of him…"

"Only in the sense of helping him at the moment, Shinra," Izaya drawled. A long sip had been taken and he put the mug on the counter; fingers curled over the edge of the counter as the heels of his hand pressed to the surface. Shoulders came up as his body relaxed slightly and an ankle crossed over the other. The way Izaya's head tilted allowed strands of black hair to tickle his neck as he gazed at Shinra.

He hadn't been the one to destroy Shizuo, and that was nearly the same as Izaya _losing._ The game he and Shizuo played of killing each other was not to be interfered by anyone else. And Shizuo hadn't been dead—Izaya would admit he was glad for that—which meant he could still win. But the playing grounds had to be even; Izaya's pride wouldn't accept a victory from an already bruised opponent.

Shizuo had to get better for Izaya to prove he was superior. Shizuo had to be at his full strength, at his full health, both mental and physical, before Izaya could completely obliterate him. Heiwajima Shizuo was only allowed to die by Orihara Izaya's hands and, at the moment, that wouldn't be fair. He wanted to see all the anger and hatred laced in Shizuo's expression before he killed him; he didn't want to see fear and betrayal flicker in eyes that used to hold hatred in such a beautiful light.

"He'll stay with me in Shinjuku until he's ready to stay here. Then I'll move in with him. It should only be a few months."

"Izaya…"

"You can check up as often as you'd like, Shinra."

"It's not that," the doctor murmured as he brought a hand up to rub at his temples. "…I don't know what you're planning, but…"

"Do you have so little faith in me, Shinra?" Izaya asked playfully.

Shinra stared at him. "Yes."

A hand waved as the mug was set down after a second sip. "Saa… I promise, Shinra, nothing bad. I'll help nurse Shizu-chan back to health as you'd like, hmm? After that, whatever I do to him will depend on his reflexes…"

Izaya's expression darkened as an almost sinister scowl etched upon his lips. "Like you said, I could use this opportunity to… ah, observe him in a way I never could…"

Shinra was quiet for several moments as he looked at Izaya, and the informant waited patiently, already knowing the doctor's answer. While 'friends' would be a term too friendly for the three of them (from Shinra's point of view), the brunet was more than aware that Izaya was right; the only one that could help Shizuo was him and there was no getting around it. Whether or not Izaya would stay true to his word was a small issue compared to the fact that if Izaya wasn't there, Shizuo would remain enclosed in terror.

He looked up tiredly and Izaya's smirk widened.

"Fine. He's yours, Izaya."

* * *

_**author's notes: **__it's summer. so hopefully updates will come sooner than once a month, haha… thank you for reading, reviews are much appreciated!_


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